Boy, did I choose the wrong year to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Apparently this year was one of the coldest on record, with temperatures going down to 39 Fahrenheit (the record was set in 1899 with temps of 38 degrees). The upside was that there was less nudity to contend with, and the food tasted so much better when you had to battle it out in the cold to get inside.
Good ole Yelp guided us to the area's classic institutions, including Johnny's Poboy's (right next door to a condo that the realtor insists is not haunted) and about 3 cups of gumbo. After a tour of Bourbon St, and losing about 5 years of my life from the secondhand smoke, I downed enough of Cafe du Monde's amazing beignets that my stomach hurt. I'm already paying for my gastronomic---I don't want to ever see shrimp, boudins, crawfish, or fried food ever again!
I was wearing:
// Scarf: similar here from Nordstrom
// Sweater: pom-pom sweater from Abercrombie. This was the only other one I could find online
// Blouse: F21, similar here
// Shoes: Converse